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enJOURNAL of A TEN DAYS' TOUR FROM ULEY IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE, BY WAY of ROSS; Down the RIVER WYE to CHEPSTOW; ABERGAVENNY, BRECON, HEREFORD, MALVERN. &c. &c. -- Augst 1807http://www.rc.umd.edu/editions/wye/HTML/MSJournal
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<div class="paratext">
<h3>JOURNAL of A TEN DAYS' TOUR FROM ULEY IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE, BY WAY of ROSS; Down the RIVER
WYE to CHEPSTOW; ABERGAVENNY, BRECON, HEREFORD, MALVERN. &amp;c. &amp;c. -- Augst 1807 </h3>
<p class=" ">[A transcription of Bloomfield's prose journal of his Wye tour from the text as it appears,
with his sketches and pasted-in maps and notes, in British Library Additional Manuscript 28267.
The folio numbers on which the text and the sketches appear are indicated here within square
brackets. Bloomfield's spelling and punctuation are preserved. His deletions are represented by
words struckthrough; insertions above the line appear &lt;thus&gt;. The titles of Bloomfield's
sketches appear in italics between square brackets at the appropriate places in the text]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image1.html" title="f. 1">f. 1</a>]</p>
<div xmlns="" class="center">JOURNAL</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">of A</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">TEN DAYS' TOUR</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">FROM ULEY IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE, BY WAY</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">of ROSS; Down the RIVER WYE to CHEPSTOW;</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">ABERGAVENNY, BRECON, HEREFORD, MALVERN.</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">&amp;c. &amp;c. --</div>
<div xmlns="" class="center">Augst 1807</div>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image2.html" title="f. 2">f. 2</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image3.html" title="f. 3">f. 3</a>]</p>
<blockquote xmlns="" class="quote">
<p class="quote">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="stanza">
<table width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent1 ">Note: In my 'Shooters Hill'<a href="#1">&#160;[1]</a><a name="back1">&#160;</a> I have said,</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent3 ">'Of Cambrian Mountains still I dream'</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent3 ">&amp;c. &amp;c. but,</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent4 ">'Tis not for me to trace around</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent4 ">The wonders of my native land'</div>
</td>
<td width="15%">5</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent2 ">I find that it was through reading that poem that the tour was resolv'd </div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent2 ">on, at least that I became one of the party. My friends guess'd that I</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent2 ">should like it, and they never form'd a better guess in their lives.</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<br/>
<br/>
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="stanza">
<table width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent3 ">Stouts Hill. Uley.</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent4 ">Aug. 180</div>
</td>
<td width="15%">10</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<br/>
</p>
</blockquote>
<p class=" "><a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a> is situated in rather a singular
valley, about seven miles from the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a>. It appears to
be surrounded by abrupt and woody hills, except on the north, where a bold promontory, with an
old camp on its brow, calld the 'Berry,'<a href="#2">&#160;[2]</a><a name="back2">&#160;</a> lifts its bald head; and
whose sides, yielding plenty of stone for building, are extremly steep. Yet they are not hills,
but merely the terminations of the upland country of Gloucestershire termed the 'Cotswold
Levels' and here they break suddenly into the vale of the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a>:<a href="#3">&#160;[3]</a><a name="back3">&#160;</a> and the valley of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a> is sunk so as to be approached by a stranger without the
smallest suspicion of there being a valley before him. Cotswold is an immense Gloucester
cheese, and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a> valey is a half-pound notch cut in his
side.</p>
<p class=" ">The town of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Dursley" title="Dursley">Dursley</a> lies in the
opening of the same valley, towards the Severn, and immediately under <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#StinchcombeHill" title="Stinchcomb Hill">Stinchcomb Hill</a>, one of the most remarkable of
these bluff points, as standing majestically <em xmlns="">forward</em> into the vale of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a>, and consequently commanding a very extensive view in
all directions, particularly down the stream, over Kingwood,</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image4.html" title="f. 4">f. 4</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image5.html" title="f. 5">f. 5</a>] Bristol, the mouth of the Wye, the Monmouthshire, and
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BlackMountain" title="Black Mountains">Black Mountains</a>; the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#DeanForest" title="Forest of Dean">Forest of Dean</a>; May Hill; <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern Hills">Malvern Hills</a>, in Worcestershire; and the city of Gloster,
&amp;c. &#8212; &#8212; &#8212; Both <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Dursley" title="Dursley">Dursley</a> and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a> are employ'd in the manufacture of Broad-cloth, and was I
to abuse their Steam Engines, that fill so delightful a valey with smoke, they would probably
begin reminding me of my coat, and not unlikely of the time when I was hampered to get one! I
mean to let them alone!</p>
<p class=" ">The village of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Owlpen" title="Owlpen">Owlpen</a> stands under the
hanging woods at the top of Uley Vale. It is very small, and near its curious and obscure
church runs the little rill<a href="#4">&#160;[4]</a><a name="back4">&#160;</a>, with several natural cascades, (the first I had ever
seen), which, in its further progress, becomes of such importance to the clothiers. The Curate
of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a> preaches here once a fortnight, and he lately ran
the hazard of his life by the falling of the sounding-board, which struck him a violent blow on
the head.&#8212; The country immediately round this valley on the high ground, is every where
intersected by stone walls; for stone, a brick thickness, more or less, is the invariable
consequence of digging ten inches into the ground; they are merely piled, without morter,
easily made, and as easily mended. A strange desolate appearance! In the valley there is no
such thing. The verdure is of the most vivid green, and the uneven boundary of woods on the
allmost perpendicular sides of the high grounds, form the finest amphitheatre I have ever seen.
But hold! I am going down the Wye! </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image6.html" title="f. 6">f. 6</a>]</p>
<p class=" "><a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BerkeleyCastle" title="Berkley Castle">Berkley Castle</a>, &lt;distant 5
miles,&gt; lies in sight from the heights; but I <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">could</span> &lt;can&gt;not reach it at present in any of my expiditions, but have frequently
thought of Gray, and the</p>
<blockquote xmlns="" class="quote">
<p class="quote">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="stanza">
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<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent3 ">'Shrieks of an agonizing King.'<a href="#5">&#160;[5]</a><a name="back5">&#160;</a></div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<br/>
</p>
</blockquote>
<p class=" ">From <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Dursley" title="Dursley">Dursley</a><a href="#6">&#160;[6]</a><a name="back6">&#160;</a> to
the Severn side at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Framelode" title="Framelode">Framelode</a>, the lowlands fall with
a slow, gradual descent; The passage-house is finely situated, and the boats are fitted up for
the conveying horses and carriages across the stream. The water of the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a> is here but narrow, but owing to the occasional tides
of uncommon height, the sands are extensive; the current is rapid. Barrow Hill is a charming
spot, rising in the neck of a horseshoe form'd by the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a>, and <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;"> gives</span> &lt;giving&gt; a great
command of the country. Here we found plentifully the petrified shell of the Nautilus; and
pebbles, which in the neighbourhood of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a> are not seen,
nor the least appearance of chalk, or flint. Horses, I observe, appear to be struck with a kind
of tremulous submission on finding themselves floating; one Barge carried the seven. But to
float each sociable, two barges were lash'd side by side, and the carriage placed across upon
planks. One Boat of course carried all the party, and we were soon all on terrey-firma again,
and climbing the high-ground, leaving May Hill on our right. Passd <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Flaxley" title="Flaxley Abbey">Flaxley Abbey</a>, the seat of Sir Thos Crawley. The woods on
this estate are chiefly Oak, of good growth, and covering the side hills in a manner truly
sublime. </p>
<p class=" ">The road leads on by <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Flaxley" title="Gun's Mills">Gun's Mills</a>, and
to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Mitcheldean" title="Mitcheldean">Mitcheldean</a>, <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">the oldest town</span> situated in a most beautiful country, and whose church has a
spire of uncommon height, and so slender as to make one tremble for the</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image7.html" title="f. 7">f. 7</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image8.html" title="f. 8">f. 8</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image9.html" title="f. 9">f. 9</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">builder. Yet on entering the place it keeps no promises made at a distance, but is the Oldest
Town (in appearance) that can be <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">found</span>
&lt;imagined&gt;, singularly unpleasing to the eye. Here I observed a stone cross, almost
perfect, having an upright stone on which the <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">cro</span>
Image was formerly placed. &#8212;&#8212;</p>
<p class=" ">During the ride from hence to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RossOnWye" title="Ross">Ross</a>,
had two or three peeps at the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern Hills">Malvern Hills</a>, in
Worcestershire, and the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Skirrid" title="Skirit">Skirit</a>' and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugarloaf">Sugarloaf</a> in Monmouthshire. &#8212; 'Bailey's Side' is a fine
bold eminence on the left, cloathd with wood, with a range, or strata of Rock breaking through
it, and forming a curious contrast with the green above and below. Penyard Hill, in the
neighbourhood of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RossOnWye" title="Ross">Ross</a>, is nearly of the same
description, but is on every side covered by steep woods, so that they assert that no sparrows
were ever known on the farm on its brow; This I think possible, as the sparrow is so entirely
domestic, and avoids woods in general; and in this case his flight would be unusually long, and
almost perpendicular.</p>
<p class=" ">(Arrived at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RossOnWye" title="Ross">Ross</a> at 7. evening)</p>
<p class=" "><a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RossOnWye" title="Ross">Ross</a> is not a town to my fancy, in appearance
perhaps it is the prevalence of Rock, and of Rock-stone in their buildings that gives it a kind
of dreary look to one unused to such buildings. The church, with its taper spire, stands on
elevated ground, and from &lt;it&gt; is a view of the River Wye winding eel-fashion, below.
Many of the elms planted by 'Kyrle,' Pope's 'Man of Ross,'<a href="#7">&#160;[7]</a><a name="back7">&#160;</a> are growing in the church yard and
neighbourhood. The ruins of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#WiltonCastle" title="Wilton Castle">Wilton Castle</a> are seen
across the stream in the oposite meadows, and a man in the churchyard very seriously informed
us, that 'the said castle was knock'd down by <em xmlns="">cannon</em>, in a great rebellion in the
time of the <em xmlns="">Romans</em>!'</p>
<p class=" ">During my short stay at Ross, I called</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image10.html" title="f. 10">f. 10</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image11.html" title="f. 11">f. 11</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image12.html" title="f. 12">f. 12</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">on an old acquaintance and fellow-tradesman, whom I had not seen for eleven years. He keeps a
shoemaker's shop, oposite the Swan Inn, where we lodg'd.</p>
<p class=" ">(Left Ross at 8. morning, 18th)</p>
<p class=" ">At eight in the morning assembled to the number of ten, on board a pleasure Boat,<a href="#8">&#160;[8]</a><a name="back8">&#160;</a>
store'd with provisions, and Bottles, &amp;c. &amp;c. The sociables having been order'd forward
to meet us at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Monmouth" title="Monmouth">Monmouth</a> and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a>.<a href="#9">&#160;[9]</a><a name="back9">&#160;</a> But how shall I attempt to describe the natural beauties of this charming River,
or the objects seen during the passage? I must not attempt it! a journal is not a vehicle of
sufficient importance. My heart is brimfull of indescribable pleasure when I think on this day!
Beauty in all its variety is perhaps its leading feature, But sublimity is paramount to all
considerations at the passage under <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#ColdwellRocks" title="Coldwell Rocks">Coldwell
Rocks</a>, and round to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#NewWeir" title="New Weir">New Weir</a>, and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#GreatDoward" title="Great Doward">Great Doward</a>, and thence on to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Monmouth" title="Monmouth">Monmouth</a>. Every body knows that the Wye is exceedingly
deep in places, and falls beautifully in others over ledges of Rocks, so as to form, not
cascades, but rapids, where the water hurries along with a <em xmlns="">visible</em> descent. It is
winding in its course to a great degree, inconceivably pelucid, and in general, the hills rise
majestically steep from its shores. </p>
<p class=" ">We dined on board the Boat, on the right bank of the stream, near the spring
called '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#ColdwellRocks" title="Cold well">Cold well</a>' and here is a new-erected
Monument in memory of a youth drowned here in sight of his parents! the inscription is long,
and excellent, but I neglected to copy it<a href="#10">&#160;[10]</a><a name="back10">&#160;</a> Permission for its erection was
granted by Mr. Vaughan of Monmouth, the owner of the land; and though, for </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image13.html" title="f. 13">f. 13</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image14.html" title="f. 14">f. 14</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image15.html" title="f. 15">f. 15</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image15v.html" title="f. 15v">f. 15v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image16.html" title="f. 16">f. 16</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image17.html" title="f. 17">f. 17</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image18.html" title="f. 18">f. 18</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image19v.html" title="f. 19v">f. 19v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image20.html" title="f. 20">f. 20</a>] </p>
<p class=" ">several reasons, I could individually wish the monument <em xmlns="">not there</em>, I think it
does honour to him to grant it, and though, as 'the Lord of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Courtfield" title="Courtfield">Courtfield</a>,' I have condemnd his taste, I know nothing
disrespectful of his heart. &#8212; <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#ColdwellRocks" title="Coldwell Rocks">Coldwell Rocks</a>, on
the Gloster side of the stream, are particularly grand and impressive, and the circumstance of
having one of them baptized by my name, by the company, I have noticed elsewhere.<a href="#11">&#160;[11]</a><a name="back11">&#160;</a></p>
<p class=" ">At the neck of a long horseshoe form'd by this river, the rocky eminence
called '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SymondsYat" title="Symmons' Yat">Symmons' Yat</a>' obtrudes itself to a vast
height between the two points of the approach of the river. Instead of going round with the
boat, it is usual for the party to ascend the rocks from A to B where the ridge terminates in a
high bank of perpendicular Rock not more than twenty yards wide, and to join the boat again at
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#NewWeir" title="new Wier">new Wier</a>. An old woman was our guide, who led us over
this isthmus untill our bones ached.&#8212;Three of us outstript our companions, and finding they did
not overtake us, I again left my two companions, and climbd a pathless way, with intent to
reach the summit which I had missd. On nearly approaching the absolute perpendicular part of
the cliff, I heard voices at the top, and hallow'd and soon found &lt;that&gt; the hindmost
part of the company, had climbed the place before me. The old woman descended to become my
pilot, and the view paid amply for the labour. On the down-stream side of this bank of rock
lies the place called the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#NewWeir" title="New Wier">New Wier</a>,' or a kind of
artificial means of keeping up the river, and accommodated by a lock. here we embarkd again,
and lookd back on the scene with encreased interest, for here, projecting from the usual run of
this rocky hill, stands allmost detachd, an upright tower of stone very aptly term'd the
Cathedral, or the 'Minster Rock,' (I forget which) it is square and grotesque, and vast in its
proportions. &#8212;&#8212; It was one of those charming days that gratify us with their serenity and</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image21v-22.html" title="ff. 21v-22">ff. 21v-22</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image23-24.html" title="f. 23">f. 23</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image24.html" title="f. 24">f. 24</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">peace. The clarionet sounded softly; yet the echo was perhaps the more enchanting. To
describe all the beauties of the passage was not my intention was I ever so capable. There was
one circumstance however that was to me curious. I had heard when at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RossOnWye" title="Ross">Ross</a>, that the fishermen on this River, still used the
identical kind of boat which Caesar has described in his commentaries<a href="#12">&#160;[12]</a><a name="back12">&#160;</a> as being used in his time by the
natives of Britain, and I hoped for an opportunity of being convinced of its truth. When
drawing near to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Monmouth" title="Monmouth">Monmouth</a>, after passing <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#GreatDoward" title="Great Doward">Great Doward</a>, and drinking at Martin's well, we came
among some fishermen who were disturbing the water with long poles to dislodge the salmon. To
accomplish this they occasionally used an infant kind of boat, which they carry with them in
their large one. It holds but one person; is, as far as I can guess not more than 4 foot in
length, goes with the broadest end foremost, is worked by a paddle, has no keel or rudder, and
is formd of wickers only, and cover'd by an oil-skin outside to repel the water. The man
paddles himself on shore, jumps out, and takes his boat at his back with great ease. It had a
strange and even laughable appearance; It was impossible to keep the mind at home; it would
compare infancy and maturity, a 'Corricle' or 'Corracal' with the 'Victory,'<a href="#13">&#160;[13]</a><a name="back13">&#160;</a>
and a Wye fisherman to Nelson.<a href="#14">&#160;[14]</a><a name="back14">&#160;</a></p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image24_2.html" title="f. 24">f. 24</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">After an uninterrupted day of rational enjoyment we reachd <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Monmouth" title="Monmouth">Monmouth</a>, at half-past seven in the evening; eleven hours and a half on the water.</p>
<p class=" ">(Monmouth at &#189; past seven)</p>
<p class=" ">Monmouth [f. 26] (as the birthplace of Henry the 5th) may be considerd as a
high curiosity to the Antiquarian; but as we were obliged, on account of meeting the tide in
our way to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a>, to start at 6 the following
morning, no great attention could be paid to the town. The place of his birth, the castle, is
nearly all demolish'd (Or else in the dark <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;"> we</span>
&lt;you&gt; could not find it says the antiquarian;&#8212;) They have a Noble Statue of him over the
Market House.</p>
<p class=" ">Left Monmouth at 6 in the morning, Wedy 19)</p>
<p class=" ">The sun strove to overlook the steeps of wood that enclosd us in, skirting our
misty, and delightfully indistinct passage down the River. The day rose, the mists dispersed,
and we met the tide just before we reachd the Village of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Llandoga" title="Landauga">Landauga</a>, where the cottages rise one over the other in a manner particularly pleasing
against the morning sun. The reach of the river that commands the village of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Llandoga" title="Landauga">Landauga</a>, exemplified in a striking manner that peculiar
appearance which we had notic'd often on the water this morning, and the preceding day. Viz.
where the water was bounded by high ground, and at the same time <em xmlns="">seemingly
terminated</em> by as high, or higher; it <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">seemd</span>
&lt;appeared&gt; to decline from the eye, and to loose its natural horizontal level by running
extreemly <em xmlns="">downhill into the opposing emminence</em>. We know that a River has in
<em xmlns="">reality</em> its natural declension, but this is a very strong and decided optical
deception; and it pleased me not a little.</p>
<p class=" ">Through the long reach below Ethels wier, </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image25.html" title="f. 25">f. 25</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image26.html" title="f. 26">f. 26</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image27v.html" title="f. 27v">f. 27v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image28.html" title="f. 28">f. 28</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">the water became turbid and slugish, until the tide turnd, and then it ran furiously down,
and soon brought us in sight of the Ruins of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#TinternAbbey" title="Tintern Abby">Tintern
Abby</a>. A place so often described by pen and by pencil,<a href="#15">&#160;[15]</a><a name="back15">&#160;</a>
that I will not attempt it; only remarking that it must have been a place of extreem beauty,
and is now a place that strikes the eye, and fixes on the soul something like the shackles of
superstition; yet I would hope that reverence for an old place of devotion is something
deserving a better name. The door was open'd suddenly, and the effect instantaneously
overpowerd us all in different ways! It is grandeur in a place where it would be least
expected; a memorial of wealth and population now unseen in its neighbourhood. The burial place
of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#Strongbow" title="Strong-bow">Strong-bow</a>, the conqueror of Ireland, &amp;c. Most
of the party sat down and took sketches of the interior; but I found it above my reach, and so
<span xmlns="" id="104Psalm"><!--anchor--></span>gave vent to my feelings by singing, for their amusement and my
own, the 104th Psalm.<a href="#16">&#160;[16]</a><a name="back16">&#160;</a> And though no 'fretted vault'<a href="#17">&#160;[17]</a><a name="back17">&#160;</a> remains to harmonize the sound, it
soothd me into <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">those</span> &lt;that&gt; state of mind
which is most to be desired. We tarried here until the last <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">moment</span> &lt;minute&gt; of our allowance of time; the tide was ebbing, and if
suffer'd to ebb too far, some of the rapids further down would not have boasted sufficient
depth to have floated us to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a>. We took a
hearty, but hasty breakfast, and I rather think the Welsh girl who waited upon us was not sorry </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image29v.html" title="f. 29v">f. 29v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image30.html" title="f. 30">f. 30</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">to get rid of her company. We had been more than three hours on the water; and we shall
remember the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#TinternAbbey" title="Tintern">Tintern</a> Breakfast with pleasure if
any part of our company go there, or meet each other again. &#8212;Though in this latter part of our
voyage the water was not so lovely an object in itself, yet the grandeur of the scenery
increased upon us every moment. The Rocks calld 'Winlass leap,' and '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#LoversLeap" title="lovers leap">lovers leap</a>,' and the more exalted eminence of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Windcliff" title="Wind Cliff">Wind Cliff</a>, in itself worth going an hundred miles to
see. These, with the detached Rocks like buttrasses, called the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#TwelveApostles" title="twelve apostles">twelve apostles</a>', and an infinity of minor beauties
made themselves admired and respected on either side, untill we reachd <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> Castle and Bridge; where we quitted the Wye with
&lt;a&gt; regret, that those will best appreciate; who have witnessed its power to enchant, and
&lt;seen&gt; the objects in its course. </p>
<p class=" ">(arrived at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> about one)</p>
<p class=" ">The Castle of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> stands on the Bank of the Wye
immediately on the brink of a perpendicular rock of vast height. It appears to have been a <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">place</span> &lt;fortress&gt; of uncommon strength. Here
Martin (the Regicide) as he is calld, was long confined by Charles ye Second, and one of the
towers bears his name.<a href="#18">&#160;[18]</a><a name="back18">&#160;</a> Here each of the party found abundance of
exercise for the mind and for the pencil, but having passed '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Windcliff" title="Wind cliff">Wind cliff</a>' on our way down the river, we now visited it
by</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image31.html" title="f. 31">f. 31</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image32.html" title="f. 32">f. 32</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image32v.html" title="f. 32v">f. 32v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image33.html" title="f. 33">f. 33</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">land, through the grounds of &#8212; Wells,<a href="#19">&#160;[19]</a><a name="back19">&#160;</a> Esq.
of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Piercefield" title="Persfield">Persfield</a>, pursuing a wooded walk for about two
miles, immediately on the edge of the rocks that overhang the Wye, at nearly one end of this
natural terrace, is the precipice called '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#LoversLeap" title="Lovers Leap">Lovers
Leap</a>', down which the eye descends with a fearful complacency, as a thick wood covers
the bottom ground. they told us that its height was about sixty yards, I should guess it more.
An iron railing protects the walk at top, and the descent is as steep as a wall. '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Windcliff" title="Wind Cliff">Wind Cliff</a>', as seen by the map, is somthing further up
the stream, and is magnificently grand. The fantastic turns of the Wye, with its amphitheatre
of woods, seemed diminishd; but, if possible, increasd in beauty. The <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn's">Severn's</a> mouth; the Holmes, in its channel; the shipping at
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Kingroad" title="King-road">King-road</a>, and all the country from below Bristol
upwards untill Gloucester was lost in mist, is compleatly under the eye. It is here calld the
second view in england, and by Lord North<a href="#20">&#160;[20]</a><a name="back20">&#160;</a> was preferd to '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#MountEdgecumbe" title="Mount Edgecomb">Mount Edgecomb</a>.' </p>
<p class=" ">The accompanying view of '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Windcliff" title="Wind Cliff">Wind
Cliff</a>' is taken from a part of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> Castle,
and it will give an additional idea of its magnitude if you observe that you do not see the
river at its foot, but look over very high ground, round which the water comes from the right
towards the centre of the drawing. If you look on the map from <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> Castle to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Windcliff" title="Wind Cliff">Wind Cliff</a>, the whole will be understood.<a href="#21">&#160;[21]</a><a name="back21">&#160;</a> This drawing is done </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image34v.html" title="f. 34v">f. 34v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image35.html" title="f. 35">f. 35</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">by <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#CooperRobert" title="R. B. Cooper, Esq">R. B. Cooper, Esq</a>. a principal in our party,
who uses his pencil with great freedom and expidition. I prize it on his, and every account.
&#8212;&#8212;&#8212; We spent a delightful and social evening at the Beaufort Arms at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a>, and retired to rest, but not till we had walked
to the Castle by Moonlight, where we found an owl hooting lustily from the Battlements of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#MartensTower" title="Martin's Tower">Martin's Tower</a>. We all stood to listen! and to admire!
and certainly no imagination can form an object and a scene half so impressive.</p>
<p class=" ">(Thursday 20th, at Chepstow)</p>
<p class=" ">The whole of this morning was spent in a thorough examination of the Ruin'd
Castle, but the time was too short; Many good drawings were made, and I attempted one amongst
the rest; The joists of the floors in <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#MartensTower" title="Martin's Tower">Martin's
Tower</a> are still existing and are of solid Oak, about a foot square. It appears
unaccountable to me how, even by the lapse of ages, nutriment enough can be found for shrubs of
so large a growth as are flourishing between the outer and inner ramparts of these towers, and
on the top of the wall of course. This gangway, once the place of the defenders of the fortress
and its centinels, is now an absolute wild: a mixture of Brambles, Hazel, Ash, Beech, and fruit
trees, from twenty to thirty feet high at least. The whole area of the Chappel which I was much
taken with, (though the man in attendance called it the banqueting-room) is coverd with
thriving underwood. The look out from its large windows must have been allmost dreadful, as
that wall stands on, and is, in truth the continuation of a perpendicular cliff, <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">as</span> &lt;much&gt; high&lt;er&gt; as than the building
itself.</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image36.html" title="f. 36">f. 36</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image37v.html" title="f. 37v">f. 37v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image38v.html" title="f. 38v">f. 38v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image39.html" title="f. 39">f. 39</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">The bridge at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> is very narrow, (belonging to
the two counties) and the flooring is composed of oak planks only on which both hoofs and
wheels batter along in a singular manner. The planks are not fastened otherwise than at each
end by an upright peg, on which, in case of high tides, they have room to lift up ten or twelve
inches without loosing their places.</p>
<p class=" ">(Thursday, left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a> at twelve,
for <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RaglanCastle" title="Ragland">Ragland</a> and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergany">Abergany</a>)</p>
<p class=" ">About noon left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Chepstow" title="Chepstow">Chepstow</a>, and the Wye and proceeded
on to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#RaglanCastle" title="Ragland">Ragland</a>, where there is another immense
castle, in some respects in better preservation than that we had left; but it <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">appears</span> &lt;has not&gt; so commanding a situation, and
appears more like a Barronial residence than an impregnable fortress. Here is the largest
growth of Ivy I have ever seen. The whole compass of the Walls are nearly compleat. But I
cannot possibly enter into particulars in a flying journal like this. We spent two hours
amongst the ruins; and in a kind of cellaring, the archd way leading to which has partly fallen
in, a country woman who offerd her services and information, informd us that, when a light is
carried in, it is soon extinguish'd, and that they say it is because of damps; but for her part
she was inclined to believe with many of her neighbours, that the devil was there. In this
building a gigantic stem of Ivy has pushed awry the fine fluted work of the kitchen window, and
seems to set iron and stone at defiance. The largest elm I have ever seen growing, is found in
the yard or grounds of the castle. &#8212;&#8212;</p>
<p class=" ">We drove on for <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergavenny">Abergavenny</a>, where
we arrived about 9 at night, having the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugarloaf">Sugarloaf</a>'
Mountain,' '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Skirrid" title="The Skirrid-Vawr">The Skirrid-Vawr</a>,' and '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Blorenge" title="Blorench">Blorench</a>' </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image40.html" title="f. 40v">f. 40v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image41.html" title="f. 41">f. 41</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">catching the rays of the setting sun, as we came towards them. It was a noble sight! </p>
<p class=" ">(<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergavenny">Abergavenny</a>, &lt;arrived at&gt; 9
at night)</p>
<p class=" ">(Friday, 21st)</p>
<p class=" ">I am now writing in my bedroom at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergany">Abergany</a> before
breakfast, with the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="sugarloaf Mountain">sugarloaf Mountain</a> in view of my
window, and before night we shall be on his brow. &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;</p>
<p class=" ">I have now discover'd that the hill I saw from my window is not the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugar loaf">Sugar loaf</a>, but one of much inferior size. With ten in
company, and <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">two</span> &lt;three&gt; servants, it
requir'd some little order and contrivance to get us all up so rugged a way, and to such a
distance. We found that as sociables and common carriages could not pass the narrow, stony, and
precipitate lanes that lead up to the high ground, the best way would be to hire a carriage on
purpose, that would carry half our party. We learn'd that a man in the neighbourhood was in the
habbit of carrying strangers to the top of the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugar loaf">Sugar
loaf</a>, and <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">the hills in the neighbourhood</span>
&lt;the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Skirrid" title="Skirid">Skirid</a>, and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Blorenge" title="Blorench">Blorench</a>, &amp;c.&gt; and that his conveyance was a common open cart, fitted up with
occasional seats for the purpose, and drawn by three little scrambling poneys. The driver and
owner is a red-fac'd little fellow named powel, who lives on his own small property, and is
perhaps, one of those we might call yeomen, or what in the north are termd, statesmen. In this
cart were stowed six of us, the rest rode single horses, chiefly fitted with side saddles for
the accommodation of the ladies, who occasionally </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image42v.html" title="f. 42v">f. 42v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image43.html" title="f. 43">f. 43</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">relieved each other. The cart was abundantly stored with provisions, wine, Bottled ale, and
fruit, and every thing that could render the expidition agreeable and joyous. In this style,
the whole cavalcade left the Angel Inn at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergany">Abergany</a>,
and excited a great deal of mirth. The roads up the mountain are such as nothing could have
passed but a cart. Brambles, honeysuckles, and hazelnuts, rap'd us on the head as we jolted up
the courses of the winter's torrents, for every lane is a water-course. <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Blorenge" title="Blorench">Blorench</a> seem'd to rise in greater sublimity as we
ascended the lower hills, or base of the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugar loaf">Sugar loaf</a>.
'<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Skirrid" title="Skirid Vawr">Skirid Vawr</a>' was on our right, but the day was hazy,
and the prospect not so extensive as it sometimes is. We reach'd the top of the woody part of
this high ground, and then had a fairer view of the peak, or summit of the Sugar Loaf '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Pen y Vale">Pen y Vale</a>,' which I understand to mean the 'head of the
vale' and which sombody has since baptized by the more melting name of the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugar-loaf">Sugar-loaf</a>.' I here took to my feet and steerd directly
for the summit, while most of the party went slowly round with the cart: But young purnell
Cooper rode his <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#CooperRobert" title="father's">father's</a> horse, amidst the rocks
and fragments allmost to the summit, where the poor animal trembled and neigh'd for his
companions. I gained the brow by regular and temperate exertion, for I had learned a lesson
from <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SymondsYat" title="Symmons' Yat">Symmons' Yat</a>, gathering whimburys or winberrys
in my way and resting on the grotesque and immense fragments of Rocks, which appear to have
rolled down from the top; which is compos'd of allmost entire rock, and is not a sharp, but a
long narrow ridge, of about one hundred yards wide.<a href="#22">&#160;[22]</a><a name="back22">&#160;</a> It was not possible to drive the cart to the </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image44v.html" title="f. 44v">f. 44v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image45.html" title="f. 45">f. 45</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">top, so while all the party climb'd to the eminence, the driver took a circuit, and the
servants relieved each other in the necessary duty of holding the horses, and enjoy'd the scene
by turns. &#8212;&#8212; We all sat on the soft green, or rather brown heath or Ling; and from a spring
just below the rocky summit had some excellent water. From this sublime eminence the eye ranges
over others still higher, and the &lt;blue mists hanging over the horizon, gave to the&gt; long
line of intersecting mountains the appearance of a sea of hills. We had left beauty behind,
here was nothing but sublimity! and I think that mirth would be the last feeling likely to be
excited in such a situation. The air was remarkably fresh and invigorating; some few drops of
rain fell, which were most likely not known in the country below. We left the summit with
regret. At a considerable way from the more rocky part of the hill, in our descent, a cloth was
spread on the moss beside a rivulet, the horses tied to a thorn, and the cold <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">collation</span> &lt;repast&gt; enjoy'd with a mutual
thankfulness, that is seldom found in a hall amidst the clattering of knives and plates. Again
&lt;we mounted&gt; the Welsh sociable, and descended by another road, though as to declivity
not a whit better than the other. We at length reachd the turnpike road to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergany">Abergany</a>, and returnd to the Inn after an excursion
that having been long promised and expected, could hardly have been despensed with, and which
from the universal gratification it gave, appears now it is over, to have been a principal
ingredient in dish of our pleasures. </p>
<p class=" ">(At <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergavenny">Abergavenny</a>, Saturday 22d)</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image46.html" title="f. 46">f. 46</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image47v.html" title="f. 47v">f. 47v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image48.html" title="f. 48">f. 48</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">(Abergany. 22)</p>
<p class=" ">This morning we strolled round the remains of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergany Castle">Abergany Castle</a>, It is very much gone to decay, but
from the eminence where once stood the keep, the hill called '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Blorenge" title="Blorench">Blorench</a>' on the other side the river <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Usk" title="Usk">Usk</a>, and the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Pen vale Hills">Pen vale
Hills</a>,' which we had ascended the preceding day, presented themselves in a new and
magnificent point of view. The morning was inclined to be stormy, and the point of the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugar-loaf">Sugar-loaf</a>, and great part of his sides could not be
seen. The clouds hung round him, and rolld in dark volumes about his stony girdle. We waited
untill the sun acquired more power, and saw his head emerge with all the majesty of a
monarch.</p>
<p class=" ">(left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Abergavenny" title="Abergany">Abergany</a> at eleven)</p>
<p class=" ">This day's journey was to take us to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a>, by way of
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Crickhowell" title="Crickhowel">Crickhowel</a>; At the latter place refreshd by the
way. here likewise are &lt;seen&gt; some remains of a castle, and <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">likewise</span> the ruins of an old mansion, once belonging to the <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">Earles</span> Earls of Pembroke. The people partake strongly
of the welsh character, and many of them cannot speak english.&#8212; Three miles further on, turnd
out of the high road to see the remains of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#TretowerCastle" title="Tre-tower Castle">Tre-tower
Castle</a>, which stands rather singularly in a deep valley. Here an upright woman, a
hundred years old, askd charity, and said her name was 'Jane Edwards.'<a href="#23">&#160;[23]</a><a name="back23">&#160;</a> An old shoe-maker answered in Welsh a great many inquiries, through an
interpreter, his son, who could speak English, but roughly. From hence to </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image49.html" title="f. 49">f. 49</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image50.html" title="f. 50">f. 50</a>]</p>
<p class=" "><a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a> was a most enchanting ride. <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Crickhowell" title="Crickhowel">Crickhowel</a> mountain, and several others were coverd
with clouds that travel'd along on their summits, and these clouds illuminated by the declining
sun! and nearer to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a>, the grotesque and abrupt
cluster of points, called the '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#PenYFan" title="Vann">Vann</a>' were still more
enveloped and in clouds of the most terrific and dark hue. Reach'd the Golden Lion at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a>, at 9.&#8212; </p>
<p class=" ">(Brecon at Nine. 22d) </p>
<p class=" ">Mr. Morgan, the Recorder of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a>,
being related to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#CooperRobert" title="father's">father's</a> of our party, we sup'd
there, and next day</p>
<p class=" ">(Sunday 23)</p>
<p class=" ">Attended service at church, and heard some excellent voices in the organ lofft, full of
simple pathos and feeling. The service is performed in Welsh at three in the afternoon for the
accommodation of those who do not speak english. And another kind of <em xmlns="">accomodation</em>
is afforded the young men of the country, by the recruiting Sergeants; they expose their bills
of invitation, with their offer of eleven guineas Bounty, in english and in welsh, side by
side! Who would loose a soldier by neglecting to let him know that you want him.? Between the
church and Dinner hour <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#LloydBakerThomasJ" title="Mr Floyd Baker">Mr Floyd Baker</a> and
self on horseback, visited an old British <em xmlns="">intrenchment</em>, so deemd (I believe) by
the late Mr. King,<a href="#24">&#160;[24]</a><a name="back24">&#160;</a> the antiquarian, it consists of a triple
bank round the brow of a hill&#8212;And not more than three miles from Brecon, and for the on the
same</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image51.html" title="f. 51">f. 51</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">side of the town, at a Farm now termed 'the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#YGaer" title="Gaer">Gaer</a>'<a href="#25">&#160;[25]</a><a name="back25">&#160;</a> are the remains of a Roman Wall, &lt;still&gt; so
perfect as not to have wholly lost the outer, or facing stones. This appears to have been a
Roman station, of some importance.<a href="#26">&#160;[26]</a><a name="back26">&#160;</a> Mr. Price, a very civil
and intelligent farmer on the spot, gave us every information in his power, and seem'd to enjoy
it. A paved Roman road crosses his orchard, only cover'd by grass. A small lamp, found on the
premises, is in possession of Mrs. Price. And several very perfect Roman Bricks, are turn'd up
by the plough, all stamp'd while the clay was wet, as the work of the second Legion of
Augustus, as I have endeavour'd to show in the scetch. </p>
<p class=" ">In the wild, bushy lane, leading down to 'the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#YGaer" title="Gaer">Gaer</a>' stands a stone (perhaps 5 foot high, and 3 wide, by 6in thick,) calld 'Marn
Morinion' or 'the Maiden's Stone.' It has had 3 lines of inscription, now so effaced, that <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#LloydBakerThomasJ" title="Mr B">Mr B</a>. could only make out a few words, but we
learn'd that the whole is decipher'd, and is in the possession of a gentleman at Brecon. In
front are two figures, once rais'd from the surface, but now batter'd away nearly to a flat.
That on the right, (looking at the drawing) appears to have been a Roman soldier with the dress
like a Highland philibeg, or petticoat. the other figure I think was a female, but the position
of their arms is not to be made out; and though the figures in my sketch<a href="#27">&#160;[27]</a><a name="back27">&#160;</a> appear so very
imperfect, I doubt they are too perfect rather, to be strictly just to the original. </p>
<p class=" ">A spot close </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image52v.html" title="f. 52v">f. 52v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image53.html" title="f. 53">f. 53</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">in the neighbourhood of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a>, calld the 'Priory
Groves,' the property of Lord Camden, forms a beautiful walk for the town's people, a stream
makes its way over a number of rocky obstructions in a deep valley below, keeping a continual
murmur, though allmost entirely hid by the trees. </p>
<p class=" ">(Left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a> Monday morning, 24th)</p>
<p class=" ">This day's journey was to take us to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a>. we
could not attempt to climb '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#PenYVan" title="the Vann">the Vann</a>' in the
neighbourhood, esteem'd the highest in South Wales; and which, during our Sunday's ride and
this morning were continually cap'd by clouds. (N.B. Price, the farmer, said he could almost to
a certainty foretel rain, by the appearance of the clouds on the Vann.) Mr and Mrs Morgan in
their own chariot accompanied us as far as Hay; in the way to which town stands the remains of
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BronllysCastle" title="Bronyliss Castle">Bronyliss Castle</a>, one tower of which is nearly
perfect, except the floors. The walls of this tower are about eleven feet thick. The farmer on
the spot, makes use of it for a hay loft; and he has destroy'd great part of the other walls
and ruins to have the materials to fence his yard and build a stable! This form'd a pleasing
subject for the pencil, and my companions enjoyd it, During which, I was thinking of the River
Wye, and filling my pockets with Nuts. The <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a>, and
the Wye, both take their rise from the mountain of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Plynlimon" title="Plenlimon">Plenlimon</a>. <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#HayOnWye" title="Hay">Hay</a>, where we dined, stands on the
Wye, and we felt a kind of unaccountable affection for the stream that had in its lower
progress given us so much pleasure. Here is likewise fine remains of a castle; and in the
churchyard we observed a <em xmlns="">new grave</em> strew'd with flowers! It is a Welsh custom, and
they are </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image54v.html" title="f. 54v">f. 54v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image55.html" title="f. 55">f. 55</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">often not strewn, but <em xmlns="">planted</em> on the grave; and carefully weeded by the
surviving friends of the deceased. In this case we only observed <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">only</span> &lt;one&gt; sprig of sweet-briar <em xmlns="">growing</em>. It was a
beautiful, sad, and impressive sight; which will make me detest the unhallow'd mob of bones in
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BunhillFields" title="Bunhill fields">Bunhill fields</a> more than I ever did before. let
me be buried any where but in a croud! </p>
<p class=" ">Here we parted with our <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Brecon" title="Brecon">Brecon</a> friends,
and proceeded onwards, passing on the steep bank of the Wye the poor remains of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#CliffordCastle" title="Clifford Castle">Clifford Castle</a>, said to be the birthplace of Fair
Rosamond.<a href="#28">&#160;[28]</a><a name="back28">&#160;</a> Cross'd the Wye a few miles further on, and then had
it on our right, during an uninterrupted ride to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a>.</p>
<p class=" ">(At <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a>, Monday night) </p>
<p class=" ">During the whole ride the harvest was in all its glory. Orchards abound on each side of the
road and overhang the highway as plentifully as elms do in Suffolk; and the greatest crop is
hanging on the trees that has been known for many years. </p>
<p class=" "><a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a> is a clean lively city. We
lodged at the New Inn, and in the same house was residing the young Roscius, Wm Betty.<a href="#29">&#160;[29]</a><a name="back29">&#160;</a> He play'd Achmet<a href="#30">&#160;[30]</a><a name="back30">&#160;</a> on the evening of our arrival, but I declined a
squeeze on so hot an evening. I saw him in the Inn yard in the morning; a well-made youth of
about 5ft 6in &#8212; a good, but surely not by any means an expressive countenance. I beg his pardon
if I am wrong. He mounted his horse with a kind of toldarol gaiety, and gallop'd out of the
yard. &#8212;&#8212;&#8212; The tower of the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="cathedral">cathedral</a></p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image56.html" title="f. 56">f. 56</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">has a strange, <em xmlns="">squaddy</em> appearance, being exceedingly large, with turrets too
small, and the height not according well with the proportion of the building.<a href="#31">&#160;[31]</a><a name="back31">&#160;</a> The interior
is elegant, and contains many very old monuments. But amongst the oddest particulars of this
church is the circumstance of its having two of the immense arches under the tower in the
interior of the church, <em xmlns="">supported</em> by an upright pillar dividing at the top, so as
to destroy the beauty of the arch, and make a singular appearance. These pillars are
comparatively modern, and surely there must have been some other cause, not now apparent, to
induce any architect to attempt so paradoxical a fancy, as to support an arch <em xmlns="">from
beneath</em>. </p>
<p class=" ">(Left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a> at 11. on Tuesday)</p>
<p class=" ">This day's journey was to take us from <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a> to
the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern Hills">Malvern Hills</a>, and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#LloydBakerThomasJ" title="Mr F. B">Mr F. B</a>. having to call on his friend, Mr.
Hopton, of Canfrone, part of the company drove on for <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Ledbury" title="Ledbury">Ledbury</a>, where we proposed meeting there again. Mr. Hopton has a house of no common
sort. it is very large, and fitted up in the first style of elegance, not fantastically modern.
Here we dined; and in the true spirit of old english hospitality, the venerable old squire
asked if we liked 'good beer'? and orderd the servant to bring a bottle of 'seventy-seven.' I
found that this beer was three years old, when it was, at the above date, put into bottles, and
was consequently brew'd when I was 8 years old. &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;</p>
<p class=" ">We joind our party at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Ledbury" title="Ledbury">Ledbury</a>, and proceeded on for
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern Hills">Malvern Hills</a>. Evening came on apace, and darkness
overtook us as we cross'd the Hills, and turned to the left towards Malvern Wells. The road is
but narrow, [<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image57.html" title="f. 57">f. 57</a>] and runs on the side of the Hills, giving
us a starlight view of &lt;the&gt; descent below us, and of the emminence, not to say Mountain,
above. We reached the Well House, but they were, with all their appendages, full of company; no
beds could be had. Drove down to the town of Great Malvern, and received the same answer there!
not even a sitting-room could be had for refreshment! except an offer, (which was eventually
declined), and which we learned was made by Sir Robert Staples, of the use of his rooms for an
hour. It was eight miles further to Worcester, and the horses tired, and &lt;now&gt; very dark.
Every effort was made to procure accomodations, which at last was accomplishd, by procuring
beds at private houses, &amp;c. &#8212;This caused more mirth than disappointment; for every one
<em xmlns="">set out at first</em> with a determination to be pleased. I lodged at a shop which was
the post office; and being debarred from the accomodating articles that wait upon my beard, I
learnd that I could be shaved by a man in the house, and so it proved, for the post office man
was the shaver! though I took him from weighing tea and cheese. He was a surly old fellow, a
little on one side, and so was his house; for the flooring of my bedroom was more out of level
than I ever slep'd on before. It was solid oak, and I dare say perfectly sound; though a large
fracture, and there being no plaster below it, shew'd me the ostlers and maids at early
breakfast below me. One of the ostlers snuffled a good deal in his speech; the other was a wit;
and the maids (if they were such) were a tolerable match for them. &#8212;&#8212;This morning, having no
breakfast-room, had a table set in a garden, and the sun shining bright upon the craggy hills
just above us, made it a beautiful and singular scene. We took two </p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image57v.html" title="f. 57v">f. 57v</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image58.html" title="f. 58">f. 58</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">saddle-horses for the Ladies, and all together began to ascend the highest peak of Old <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern">Malvern</a>. It was laborious work! This majestic view has been
many hundred times described better than I can do it here. I will however remark, that the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern Hills">Malvern Hills</a> are a range that rise in comparatively a flat
country and therefore command an extraordinary view. Amongst the round of objects which we
deliberately observed, are, on the Welsh side, and turning round to the right; the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Sugar Loaf">Sugar Loaf</a>; the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Skirrid" title="Skirit">Skirit</a>; the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BlackMountain" title="Black Mountains">Black Mountains</a>; the City of
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a>; Clay Hills, and the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Wrekin" title="Wreaken">Wreaken</a> in Shropshire; Winbury Hills&#8212;The <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Lickey" title="Lickey">Lickey</a>&#8212; <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#HagleyGroves" title="Hagley park">Hagley
park</a>&#8212; Worcester City (8 miles)&#8212;Malvern Abbey just below&#8212;the whole valey of Stratford on
Avon, very distant&#8212;<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BredonHill" title="Bredon Hill">Bredon Hill</a>&#8212; The long heights of
Cotswold&#8212;<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#UptonBridge" title="Upton Bridge">Upton Bridge</a>&#8212; &lt;down towards the&gt;
Severn's mouth, and allmost to the ocean! A ditch along the ridge of the hills, marks the
boundary between the counties of Gloucester and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Hereford" title="Hereford">Hereford</a>. I think if I lived on the spot I should climb the hills about twice a week
for six months, and then be able to give a tolerable account of the scene. Delightful <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern">Malvern</a>!! I have said above that we all climbed the hill;
but <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#LloydBakerMary" title="Mrs F B">Mrs F B</a>. though she had reached the summit
of '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#SugarLoaf" title="Pen y Vale">Pen y Vale</a>' in a state (and far advanced) that
'all women would wish to be who love their lords,'<a href="#32">&#160;[32]</a><a name="back32">&#160;</a> was, I doubt, <em xmlns="">deterred</em> from this attempt; for I am sure her
spirit would <em xmlns="">never</em> fail if her reason approved. The old abby church at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern">Malvern</a>, reminds one of a man <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">Lost xx</span> in a deep decline, and yet retaining about him all that can attest
his former strength and vigour. The woman who exhibited what was there to be seen was much
better informd than many in a similar situation and gave the most unaffected detail I have ever
heard. The whole fabric is uncommonly damp and discoloured; and unless something is done to
arrest the scythe of Time, the roof will soon be <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">xxxx</span> on the floor.</p>
<p class=" ">(Left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern">Malvern</a> for <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Tewkesbury" title="Tewkesbury">Tewkesbury</a> Wednesday at one) </p>
<p class=" ">Leaving <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern Hills">Malvern Hills</a>, no other striking scenes <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">which any</span> presented themselves except works of art,
which, though I affect not to disregard, I am not so much taken with, or able or willing to
describe. From the summit of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Malvern" title="Malvern">Malvern</a>, we had observed
<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#UptonBridge" title="Upton Bridge">Upton Bridge</a> in the valley, and now pass'd it in
the road to Tewkesbury.<a href="#33">&#160;[33]</a><a name="back33">&#160;</a> On entering the latter place, I was
uncommonly surprised, and delighted with the noble appearance of the streets. A width and
length, and clearness, and great respectability that I had not been at all apprised of. <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BuryStEdmunds" title="Bury St. Ed">Bury St. Ed</a>. I had always esteem'd a fine clean town,
but the street by which we entered <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Tewkesbury" title="Tewkesby">Tewkesby</a> is at
least twice, and at places thrice as wide as the Abby-gate Stt, and 4 times its length, a more
respectable street than <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Holborn" title="Holboun">Holboun</a>. The Stratford Avon
over which we pass'd, falls into the <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Severn" title="Severn">Severn</a> at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Tewkesbury" title="Tewkesbury">Tewkesbury</a>. The Abby Church has of late years been
beautified<a href="#34">&#160;[34]</a><a name="back34">&#160;</a> and repaired by Mr Wyatt;<a href="#35">&#160;[35]</a><a name="back35">&#160;</a> and as to pulpit and seats
is the neatest that can be imagined. Prince Edward, son of Edward ye 4th Henry the Sixth, said
to be murder'd by Richard after the battle of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Tewkesbury" title="Tewkesby">Tewkesby</a>, lies here in the centre of the church, with a small brass inscription. This
evening was spent with a peculiar pleasure, which we had been promised from our first setting
out. <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#CooperRobert" title="Mr. R. B. Cooper">Mr. R. B. Cooper</a> had with him his MS poem
(unfinishd), &lt;in&gt; which he describes his neighbour '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#StinchcombeHill" title="Stinchcomb Hill">Stinchcomb Hill</a>'&#8212; He read it with very good effect,
and it spoke most amply for its subject and its author. I hope some day to see it finish'd.
Here likewise took place a [<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image58v.html" title="f. 58v">f. 58v</a>] general exhibition and
comparison of notes and sketches and much good will, <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">and</span> &lt;with&gt; allowances for the bad, and enjoyment of the good. </p>
<p class=" ">(Left <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Tewkesbury" title="Tewkesbury">Tewkesbury</a> Thursday morning,
for Gloucester, and home)</p>
<p class=" ">It was agreed to proceed this last day's journey by way of <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Cheltenham" title="Cheltenham">Cheltenham</a>, and thence to Gloucester to dinner. <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Cheltenham" title="Cheltenham">Cheltenham</a> appears to be an increasing town, full of
dashing shops, and full of what is often called Life, (i.e.) high life. I am not qualified to
judge of high life, and may be laughed at for my strictures, but as I never feel happy in <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BondStreet" title="Bond street">Bond street</a>, I see no reason that I should here. The
visitors seem distrest for somthing to do, and I know &lt;of&gt; no calamity equal to it. I
proposed calling on <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#JennerEdward" title="Doctor Jenner">Doctor Jenner</a> who join'd our
party in the walks, and sent a <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Cheltenham" title="Cheltenham">Cheltenham</a> gift for
my wife, which shall remain in my family with his former tokens between us<a href="#36">&#160;[36]</a><a name="back36">&#160;</a> &#8212;The prince was at Cheltenham, and
though the votaries of fashion follow him as gnats do a horse, to sting him, or to be lashd to
death, I Found all moralists, and all thinkers, through the whole <span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">xxxxx</span> &lt;town&gt; speak of him with a shake of the head, and a humbled, and
negative kind of exultation&#8212;I hope the feeling will last as long as truth and history. Spent
about 3 hours at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Cheltenham" title="Cheltenham">Cheltenham</a>, and drove on for
Gloucester, where we dined at three at the King's Head. The Cathedrial is beauty itself.
Westminster is black and venerable, Canterbury is gigantic, and mix'd in its beauties, but
this, and particularly the Tower, is a noble and lovely object. We look at it as we would at a
beautiful woman, without cessation, and without tiring. Gloucester Cathedrial is the burial
place of Robert of Normandy, and of Edward ye Second, murder'd at <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BerkeleyCastle" title="Berkeley">Berkeley</a>.&#8212; The city is fine, and is a busy scene,
but I was more struck with Tewkesbury. From Gloucester we proceeded for home, which we reached
about nine at night; </p>
<blockquote xmlns="" class="quote">
<p class="quote">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="stanza">
<table width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent3 ">'Nor stop'd, till where we first got up</div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="85%">
<div class="indent4 ">We did again get down.'&#8212; <a href="#37">&#160;[37]</a><a name="back37">&#160;</a></div>
</td>
<td width="15%"> </td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<br/>
</p>
</blockquote>
<p class=" "><a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Dursley" title="Dursley">Dursley</a> and <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Uley" title="Uley">Uley</a>
as I have said already are singularly beautiful as to situation, yet such is the force of a set
of new Ideas, that the most facitious individuals of the party &lt;now&gt; thought their
beauties tame, because they were compared with what we had seen. I have imbibed the highest
degree of affection for all the individuals of the party, from the most natural cause in the
world&#8212;because they all seem'd glad to give me pleasure&#8212; and I shall forget them all&#8212;when my
grave is strewn with Flowers. </p>
<div xmlns="" class="indent3 "> R Bloomfield </div>
<p class=" ">N. B. Before I left the country, visited <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#BerkeleyCastle" title="Berkeley Castle">Berkeley
Castle</a>, and gained much comparative information from here observing a Castle still
habitable and perfect, with all the characteristics of a Castle which I had so repeatedly seen
in a state of dilapidation. The room where Edward was murderd has a horrid kind of appearance. </p>
<p class=" ">I returnd to London by way of Oxford, and spent a day there for fear I should never have such
another chance. But to tell <em xmlns="">here</em> of Oxford sights, great and highly interesting as
they are, will never do. I leave the task to hands more methodical and more able</p>
<div xmlns="" class="indent3 ">And am most glady at the end of my transcribing duty</div>
<div xmlns="" class="indent3 ">R. B.</div>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image59title.html" title="f. 59">f. 59</a>]</p>
<p class=" ">[<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/image59map.html" title="f. 59 map">f. 59 map</a>]</p>
</div>
<div class="notes">
<div class="noteHeading">
<h3>Notes</h3>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="1">[1] </a>Lines 73 and
79-80 of Bloomfield's poem 'Shooter's Hill', published in his third collection <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Wild
Flowers</span> (1806). <a href="#back1">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="2">[2] </a>'Bury'] 'Berry'*
*Bury or Berry the Saxon name for a hill particularly for one wholly or partially formed by
ants RBC. [MS note in the hand of Robert Bransby Cooper]. <a href="#back2">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="3">[3] </a>Severn] A marginal note in the MS reads '<a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/unadoptedpassages.html" title="Insert giant Scoop'">Insert giant Scoop'</a>. <a href="#back3">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="4">[4] </a>At Dursley is a spring near the
course of this stream, which turns a mill at the distance of fifty yards from its issuing from
the ground. [Bloomfield's note]. <a href="#back4">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="5">[5] </a>Line 56 of
Thomas Gray's 'The Bard: A Pindaric Ode' (1757). <a href="#back5">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="6">[6] </a>Left Dursley at ten in the morning, August 17th. [Bloomfield's note]. <a href="#back6">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="7">[7] </a>The
paragon of local philanthropy and emblem of the good moral life featured in Pope's third
Epistle, 'To the Right Honourable Allen Lord Bathurst', lines 250-90, and note: 'The Person
here celebrated, who with so small an estate actually performed all these good works, and
whose true Name was almost lost (partly by the Title of the <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Man of Ross</span> given him
by way of eminence, and partly by being buried without so much as an Inscription) was called
Mr. <em xmlns="">John Kyrle</em>. He died in the year 1724, aged 90, and lies interr'd in the
Chancel of the Church of Ross in Herefordshire.' <a href="#back7">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="8">[8] </a>In taking this boat tour, Bloomfield was following in the wake of
many earlier tourists. See Suzanne Matheson, '<a class="link_ref" href=" http://www.lib.umich.edu/enchanting-ruin-tintern-abbey-romantic-tourism-wales/introduction.html" title="Enchanting Ruin: Tintern Abbey and Romantic Tourism in Wales">Enchanting Ruin: Tintern Abbey and Romantic
Tourism in Wales</a>', <a href="#back8">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="9">[9] </a>Spent an hour
on shore at Goodrich Castle. Pollett, the boat-man, informed me that he had often bought good
cider for sixpence per gallon, and expected it as cheap this season. [Bloomfield's
note]. <a href="#back9">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="10">[10] </a>See Banks of Wye,
Book I, lines 269-78: 'Close on the bank, and half o'ergrown, / Beneath a dark wood's sombrous
frown, / A monumental stone appears, / Of one who in his blooming years, / While bathing
spurn'd the grassy shore, / And sunk, midst friends, to rise no more; / By parents
witness'd.&#8211;&#8211;Hark! their shrieks! / The dreadful language horror speaks! / But why in verse
attempt to tell / That tale the stone records so well?' <a href="#back10">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="11">[11] </a>See <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Banks of Wye</span>, Book I, lines 329-36: 'The generous
band, / That spread his board and grasp'd his hand, / In native mirth, as here they came, /
Gave a bluff rock his humble name: / A yew-tree clasps its rugged base; / The boatman knows
its reverend face; / With his memory and his fee, / Rests the result that time shall
see.' <a href="#back11">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="12">[12] </a>Describing in his <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Gallic Wars</span> his Spanish campaign of 49 B.C.,
Caesar relates ordering his troops to make wickerwork boats covered with hides &#8212; similar to
those seen on Roman forays into southwestern England. <a href="#back12">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="13">[13] </a>Nelson's flagship at the Battle of Trafalgar of 1805, which was still a recent
event and Britain's greatest defeat of Napoleonic France when Bloomfield was writing. <a href="#back13">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="14">[14] </a>Nelson] Nelson* *See Gilpin
[pencilled note on MS] Gilpin describes the coracle in his <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Observations on the River
Wye, and several parts of South Wales, &amp;c. relative chiefly to picturesque beauty; made
in the summer of the year 1770</span>, 2nd edn (London, 1789), p. 40. <a href="#back14">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="15">[15] </a>Among the descriptions of Tintern Abbey known to Bloomfield was Wordsworth's "Lines. Composed
a few miles above Tintern Abbey, on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour. July 13,
1798" (1798) for he was an early admirer of <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Lyrical Ballads</span> (see his letters of
19 April 1801 and of 2 September 1802 and (letters <a class="link_ref" href="http://www.rc.umd.edu/editions/bloomfield_letters/HTML/letterEEd.25.52.html" title="52">52</a>
and <a class="link_ref" href="http://www.rc.umd.edu/editions/bloomfield_letters/HTML/letterEEd.25.94.html" title="94">94</a> of <span xmlns="" class="titlem">The Letters of Robert Bloomfield and his Circle</span>, ed. Tim Fulford
and Lynda Pratt). Gilpin's <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Observations on the River Wye</span> and Charles Heath's
guidebook <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Historic and Descriptive Accounts of the Ancient and Present State of Tintern
Abbey</span> (1803) helped establish the abbey's fame as a picturesque location. By 1807, it
had been portrayed in watercolour by Edward Dayes and James Ward, among others. See the
website "<a class="link_ref" href="http://www.lib.umich.edu/enchanting-ruin-tintern-abbey-romantic-tourism-wales/introduction.html" title="Tintern Abbey and Romantic Tourism in Wales">Tintern Abbey and Romantic Tourism in Wales</a>"
<a href="#back15">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="16">[16] </a>The text of the 104th Psalm from the
King James Bible: <div xmlns="" class="blockquote"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="stanza"><table width="100%"><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Bless the LORD, O my soul. O LORD my God, thou art very great; thou art
clothed with honour and majesty.</div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the
heavens like a curtain: </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds
his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:</div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire: </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for
ever. </div></td><td width="15%">5</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: the waters stood above
the mountains. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">At thy rebuke they fled; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">They go up by the mountains; they go down by the valleys unto the place
which thou hast founded for them. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over; that they turn not again
to cover the earth. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills. </div></td><td width="15%">10</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">They give drink to every beast of the field: the wild asses quench their
thirst. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing
among the branches. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the
fruit of thy works. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of
man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to
shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart. </div></td><td width="15%">15</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">The trees of the LORD are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath
planted; </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir trees are her
house. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats; and the rocks for the
conies. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his going down. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Thou makest darkness, and it is night: wherein all the beasts of the forest
do creep forth. </div></td><td width="15%">20</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them down in
their dens. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">O LORD, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the
earth is full of thy riches. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable,
both small and great beasts. </div></td><td width="15%">25</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play
therein. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">These wait all upon thee; that thou mayest give them their meat in due
season. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled
with good. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled: thou takest away their breath,
they die, and return to their dust. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created: and thou renewest the face
of the earth. </div></td><td width="15%">30</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">The glory of the LORD shall endure for ever: the LORD shall rejoice in his
works. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth: he toucheth the hills, and they
smoke. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">I will sing unto the LORD as long as I live: I will sing praise to my God
while I have my being. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">My meditation of him shall be sweet: I will be glad in the LORD. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent1 ">Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no
more. Bless thou the LORD, O my soul. Praise ye the LORD.</div></td><td width="15%">35</td></tr></table></div><br/></div><a href="#back16">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="17">[17] </a>Thomas Gray, 'Elegy
Written in a Country Churchyard' (1751), line 39. <a href="#back17">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="18">[18] </a>Henry Marten, one of those
Parliamentarians who signed Charles I's death warrant, was, after the Restoration, imprisoned
in Chepstow castle until his death in 1680. <a href="#back18">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="19">[19] </a>Nathaniel Wells,
enriched by plantations in the West Indies, bought the Piercefield estate in 1802. <a href="#back19">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="20">[20] </a>Frederick North, 2nd
Earl of Guilford (1732-92): Prime Minister under George III, during the American War of
Independence. Stayed at Mount Edgcombe in 1766. <a href="#back20">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="21">[21] </a>From
Chepstow Castle to Windcliff the river crosses the line of sight four times [Bloomfield's
note]. <a href="#back21">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="22">[22] </a>Cox's
History of Monmouthshire calls it two hundred wide, by a quarter of a mile long; I think, from
recollection, that it is not so much [Bloomfield's note]. Bloomfield refers to <a class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/people.html#CoxeWilliam" title="William Coxe">William Coxe</a>, <span xmlns="" class="titlem">An Historical Tour in
Monmouthshire: Illustrated with views by Sir R. C. Hoare, Bart. A New Map of the County, and
other Engravings</span> (London, 1801). <a href="#back22">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="23">[23] </a>Jane Edwards: See <span xmlns="" class="titlem">The Banks of Wye</span>, Book III, lines 345-60: <div xmlns="" class="blockquote"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="stanza"><table width="100%"><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent6 ">E'en thou, </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">JANE, with the placid silver brow, </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">Know'st not the day, though thou hast seen</div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">A hundred springs of cheerful green, </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">A hundred winters' snows increase </div></td><td width="15%">5</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">That brook, the emblem of thy peace. </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">Most venerable dame! and shall </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">The plund'rer, in his gorgeous hall,</div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">His fame, with Moloch-frown prefer, </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">And scorn thy harmless character, </div></td><td width="15%">10</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">Who scarcely hear'st of his renown, </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">And never sack'd or burnt a town? </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">But should he crave, with coward cries,</div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">To be Jane Edwards when he dies, </div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">Thou'lt be the CONQUEROR, old lass, </div></td><td width="15%">15</td></tr><tr><td width="85%"><div class="indent3 ">So take thy alms, and let us pass.</div></td><td width="15%"> </td></tr></table></div><br/></div><a href="#back23">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="24">[24] </a>Edward King (1734/5-1807), antiquary and
author of <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Munimenta Antiqua, or, Observations on Ancient Castles, Including Remarks on
the &#8230; Progress of Architecture &#8230; in Great Britain, and on the &#8230; Change in &#8230; Laws and
Customs</span>, 4 vols (London, 1799-1806). <a href="#back24">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="25">[25] </a>Gaer,] Gaer* *Gaer or Caer signifies a xxxx or Military Station MB
[pencilled MS note in another hand]. <a href="#back25">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="26">[26] </a>importance] importance*
*Julius Frontinus came to Caerleon about the year of Christ 70, and brought with him the
second legion of Augustus, call'd 'victrix'. He was succeeded by Agricola. / Jones's
<span xmlns="" class="titlem">His. Brecknock</span> [MS note]. The note refers to Theophilus Jones, <span xmlns="" class="titlem">A History
of the County of Brecknock</span>, 2 vols (Brecon, 1805-09). <a href="#back26">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="27">[27] </a>From Welsh Heritage website "<a class="link_ref" href="http://www.gtj.org.uk/en/small/item/GTJ61024/" title="Gathering the Jewels">Gathering the Jewels</a>" : 'The Maiden Stone or Maen y Morwynion, a
large carved stone found at Brecon Gaer Roman fort near Brecon, and now in Brecknock Museum
and Art Gallery. The badly weathered carving represents a Roman citizen and his wife'.
<a class="link_ref" href="http://www.gtj.org.uk/en/small/item/GTJ61024/" title="Bloomfield's sketch">Bloomfield's sketch</a> was engraved and published in
<span xmlns="" class="titlej">The Antiquarian &amp; Topographical Cabinet</span> (1809). <a href="#back27">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="28">[28] </a>Rosamund Clifford (before 1150-c. 1176): King Henry
II's mistress, supposedly killed by his Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. Legends also suggest Henry
built for her a lodge at Woodstock with a labyrinth-garden as her bower. She is the subject of
the <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Ballad of Fair Rosamund</span> by Thomas Delaney and the <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Complaint of
Rosamund</span> by Samuel Daniel. <a href="#back28">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="29">[29] </a>Young Roscius, William Henry Betty (1791-1874) a boy actor who
achieved great fame at Covent Garden during the 1804 and 1806 seasons, playing adult roles,
including Romeo and Hamlet, Norval in John Home's <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Douglas</span>, and Rollo in
<span xmlns="" class="titlem">Pizarro</span>, leading him to be compared to the celebrated Roman comic actor Quintus
Roscius Gallus. <a href="#back29">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="30">[30] </a>Achmet was a role
taken by Betty in the popular play <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Barbarossa</span> (1755) by John Brown. Betty
appeared in the play first in 1804. <a href="#back30">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="31">[31] </a>Since writing the above, I have found the following memorandum in the 'Tablet
of Memory:' Hereford Cathedral nearly destroyed by the fall of its tower, September the 10th,
1786 [Bloomfield's note, referring to the events of Easter Monday, 1786, when the west tower
fell, ruining the west front and parts of the nave. James Wyatt (1746-1813) was called in to
plan restoration, resulting in the supporting of arches by new columns]. <a href="#back31">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="32">[32] </a>Cf. John
Home, <span xmlns="" class="titlem">Douglas, a Tragedy</span> (1756), Act I, scene i: 'As women wish to be who love
their lords'. <a href="#back32">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="33">[33] </a><span xmlns="" style="text-decoration: line-through;">The Avon flows into the Severn at <a xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" class="link_ref" href="/editions/wye/HTML/places.html#Tewkesbury" title="Tewkesbury">Tewkesbury</a></span> [Bloomfield's note]. <a href="#back33">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="34">[34] </a>In the church books of Tewkesbury, which have been
preserved for a long time back, are the following entries&#8212;'A. D. 1378, paid for the "Players
Geers" six sheep-skins for Christ's garments.' And in an inventory recorded in the same book,
1585, are these words&#8212;'and order <em xmlns="">eight heads of hair for the Apostles, and ten beards,
and a face or visor, for the</em> DEVIL.' <span xmlns="" class="titlej">Monthly Mirror</span>, [October] 1807 [269]
[Bloomfield's note]. <a href="#back34">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="35">[35] </a>James
Wyatt (1746-1813) 'the destroyer': architect who carried out controversial remodelling work at
Hereford and Salisbury cathedrals as well as at Tewkesbury. <a href="#back35">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="36">[36] </a>Jenner's gifts to Bloomfield were acknowledgements for the pro-vaccination poem
<span xmlns="" class="titlem">Good Tidings; or, News from the Farm</span> that Bloomfield, at Jenner's instigation,
published in 1804. They included a silver inkstand. <a href="#back36">BACK</a></p>
</div>
<div class="note">
<p class="letnote"><a name="37">[37] </a>William Cowper,
'The Diverting History of John Gilpin; Showing how he Went Farther than he Intended, and Came
Safe Home Again' (1782), stanza 62. <a href="#back37">BACK</a></p>
</div>
</div>
</div></div></div><section class="field field-name-field-parent-section field-type-entityreference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">Parent Section:&nbsp;</h2><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><a href="/node/31535">Electronic Editions</a></div></div></section><section class="field field-name-field-resource-index field-type-entityreference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">Parent Resource:&nbsp;</h2><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><a href="/editions/wye">The Banks of Wye</a></div></div></section><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-52 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">Section:&nbsp;</h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/section/the-banks-of-wye" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">The Banks of Wye</a></li></ul></section><section class="field field-name-opencalais-city-tags field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">City:&nbsp;</h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/city/dursley" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Dursley</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/city/owlpen" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Owlpen</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/city/bristol" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Bristol</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/city/gloucester" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Gloucester</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/city/hereford" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Hereford</a></li></ul></section><section class="field field-name-opencalais-country-tags field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">Country:&nbsp;</h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/country/britain" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Britain</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/country/united-kingdom" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">United Kingdom</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/country/ireland" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Ireland</a></li></ul></section><section class="field field-name-opencalais-naturalfeature-tags field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">NaturalFeature:&nbsp;</h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/natural-feature/forest-of-dean" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Forest of Dean</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/natural-feature/monmouthshire-mountain" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Monmouthshire mountain</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/natural-feature/stinchcomb-hill" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Stinchcomb Hill</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/natural-feature/uley" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Uley</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/natural-feature/may-hill" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">May Hill</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/natural-feature/black-mountains" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Black Mountains</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/natural-feature/river-wye" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">River Wye</a></li></ul></section><section class="field field-name-opencalais-person-tags field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">Person:&nbsp;</h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/person/thos-crawley" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Thos Crawley</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/person/r-b-cooper" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">R. B. Cooper</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/person/nb-price" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">N.B. Price</a></li></ul></section><section class="field field-name-opencalais-provinceorstate-tags field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-above view-mode-fulltext"><h2 class="field-label">ProvinceOrState:&nbsp;</h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/category/province-or-state/monmouth" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Monmouth</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/category/province-or-state/tewkesbury" typeof="skos:Concept" property="rdfs:label skos:prefLabel" datatype="">Tewkesbury</a></li></ul></section>Fri, 20 Jul 2012 19:12:55 +0000rc-admin31330 at http://www.rc.umd.edu